“Remember all the nice things we do, not just the time we erupt because of a trigger.”

My earliest recollection of not being ‘normal’ was aged around eight. I’m 55 now. My first suicide attempt was at 15 but it wasn’t until around age 23/24 that I was able to pluck up the courage to talk to my GP about depression and what to do about it. On paper, I’m diagnosed with Paranoid Personality Disorder.

The paranoia is very difficult. The fear that you’re doing and saying the wrong things all the time, but can’t work out how to act ‘normally’. It’s frustrating and exhausting, especially accompanied by the repetitive running commentary in your head.

A common thing for me is that people will ask if I’m okay because I look angry/upset/confused, but I’m perfectly alright.  In general terms, it’s upsetting when people don’t/won’t take responsibility for their part in triggering you and leap on your mental illness as a way of covering their arses.

I want people to understand that I am emotionally starved and am teaching myself from scratch. Many take for granted that everyone is loved unconditionally- from before leaving the womb even- yet there are those of us desperate to have even a tiny slice of that. Give us a break and remember all the nice things we do, not just the time we erupt because of a trigger.

I’ve tried many types of treatment involving therapy and/or medicine over the years and gone for periods of time without any help. I finally began to understand what was ‘wrong’ a couple of years ago. I’ve accepted that this neurodiversity probably will never go away, and am now acquiring skills to cope.

My initial diagnosis of depression was fairly straightforward once I’d summoned the courage to see the GP – in fact, I went to the surgery for the appointment but couldn’t spit it out, so I went back to work and phoned my doctor and told her why I’d really gone to see her. She prescribed good old Prozac and I was referred for counselling. In those days a CPN (Community Psychiatric Nurse) came to your house for an hour long appointment.

It was more like a chat with a mate, as mine was really cool and I desperately wanted her to be my friend in real life. She gently set boundaries and the work we did was based around the work of John Bradshaw focusing on the inner child – I bought all the books. Those sessions lasted around 12 weeks and I was deemed mentally fit enough to cope. Until the next time- I saw her for more treatment where she visited me, and then after that I had to go to the main large town about 45 mins away for appointments.

Between then and now I have had help from the NHS for at least 10 episodes (lasting between three to six months-ish, varying from courses for panic and anxiety, to psychiatrist sessions to try and identify what was going on. It’s tough as I tend to lose interest. Although I was diagnosed with Paranoid Personality Disorder in 2018, my own research/therapist opinion identifies also with BPD, bipolar and the majority of the pick and mix selection that is Cluster B.

During the time I’ve been in the system, I haven’t particularly noticed a significant shift in how mental health is dealt with in the NHS. It’s a conveyor belt of being given meds if you’re in obvious crisis, waiting for a referral appointment to come through, being assigned a therapist who are poorly equipped to cope and advise (in my opinion), and slowly exhausting their limited repertoire, always aware of the 12 week golden timescale although they nearly always kindly say that it can be extended. When you’ve been in the system for 30 years you kind of know what’s what. And you’re also painfully aware of the queue behind you, desperately waiting to be seen.

Fortunately I was able to galvanise myself into researching each time and have finally worked out why I’m the way I am with the help of DBT, which I pay for privately.

Since I started this round of therapy, coming up to two years now, I will actually broadcast that I have a mental illness- partly to raise awareness and maybe get a conversation going, and partly in the hope that if I overstep the mark with my behaviour I will be given a break. Unfortunately this has gone spectacularly wrong at work, but in my new role I feel like I’ve been given another chance so am taking it slowly.

Generally reactions to my initial openness are positive. Once dialogue has been established I always state that if the person has any questions about mental health, to feel free to ask me anything. I haven’t had any direct contact as a result but I won’t stop offering.

I’m on the other side of a blip at the moment, my behaviour at work has culminated in pushing away six colleagues I worked closely with and I’m on a phased return to a different department after being signed off for three months. Right now I’m improving a lot and have strong support from my husband, therapist and boss. My boss has been amazingly supportive along with HR. I’m a bit wobbly, but can get it together enough to function as a medical secretary NHS and have started socialising a bit, but am taking everything very slowly. I’m medicated on 60mg of Fluoxetine daily, I have been for four years continuously. My psychiatrist and GP are ok with this and want me to carry on with this dose so I will. I’m wary of coming off meds, so I’m ok with this.

I also tried several private therapists over the years. I saw one for four sessions and she seemed to lose interest and didn’t organise any more appointments, which was disappointing as I had to drive far for the appointments and they weren’t cheap at all. I’ve also tried acupuncture but ended up getting treated for bad periods instead in the end. I’ve given lots of ‘cures; a try in desperation.

Headspace was an awesome find. During my darkest breakdown I forced myself to do it, I felt empowered when the penny dropped that I couldn’t be depressed/anxious/paranoid and meditate at the same time, it’s an impossibility. I finally found a way to escape. Even though it was only for one minute at the start, I could do it.